Tag: fat

In New Caledonia, an island off the eastern coast of Australia, a crow is hunting for beetle grubs. The larvae are hidden within a decaying tree trunk, which might seem like an impregnable fortress. But the New Caledonian crow is smarter than the average bird. It uses a stick to probe the tunnels where the grubs are sheltered. The grubs bite at intruders with powerful jaws but here, that defensive reflex seals their fate; when they latch onto the stick, the crow pulls them out.

This technique is not easy. Birds need a lot of practice to pull it off and even veterans can spend a lot of time fishing out a single grub. The insects are fat, juicy and nutritious but do they really warrant the energy spent on extracting them? The answer is a resounding yes, according to Christian Rutz from the University of Oxford. By analysing feather and blood samples from individual crows, he found that grubs are so nutritious that just a few can satisfy a crow for a day.

The Not Exactly Pocket Science experiment continues after the vast majority of people who commented liked the pilot post. I’m really enjoying this, for quite unexpected reasons. It’s forcing me to flex writing muscles that usually don’t get much of a workout. Writing short pieces means being far more economical with language and detail than usual. It means packing in as much information as possible while still keeping things readable. And it means blitz-reading papers and writing quickly without losing any accuracy.

One quick note before the good stuff: last time, a few people suggested that I put each NEPS item in a separate post, but the majority preferred multiple items per post. For now, I’m keeping it that way because otherwise, the longer pieces would be diluted by the smaller ones. We’ll see how that works for the foreseeable future.

Our immune systems provide excellent defence against marauding hordes of bacteria, viruses and parasites, using sentinel proteins to detect the telltale molecules of intruders. But these defences can be our downfall if they recognise our own bodies as enemies.

All of our cells contain small energy-supplying structures called mitochondria. They’re descendents of ancient bacteria that were engulfed and domesticated by our ancestor cells. They’ve come a long way but they still retain enough of a bacterial flavour to confuse our immune system, should they break free of their cellular homes. An injury, for example, can set them free. If cells shatter, fragments of mitochondria are released into the bloodstream including their own DNA and amino acids that are typical of bacteria. Qin Zhang showed that trauma patients have far higher levels of such molecules in their blood than unharmed people. Our white blood cells have sentinel proteins that latch onto these molecules and their presence (incorrectly) says that a bacterial invasion is underway.

This discovery solves a medical mystery. People who suffer from severe injuries sometimes undergo a dramatic and potentially fatal reaction called “systemic inflammatory response syndrome” or SIRS, where inflammation courses through the whole body and organs start shutting down. This looks a lot like sepsis, an equally dramatic response to an infection. However, crushing injuries and burns can cause SIRS without any accompanying infections. Now we know why – SIRS is caused by the freed fragments of former bacteria setting off a false alarm in the body. The technical term for these enemies within is “damage-associated molecular patterns” or DAMPs.

On Wednesday, I wrote about the hidden legions residing up your bum – bacteria and other microbes, living in their millions and outnumbering your cells by ten to one. These communities wield a big influence over our health, depending on who their members are. Matam Vijay-Kumar found that different species colonise the guts of mice with weakened immune systems, and this shifted membership is linked to metabolic syndrome, a group of obesity-related symptoms that increase the risk of heart disease and type 2 diabetes.

Vijay-Kumar’s mice lacked the vital immune gene TLR5, which defends the gut against infections. Their bowels had 116 species of bacteria that were either far more or less common than usual. They also overate, became fat, developed high blood pressure and became resistant to insulin – classic signs of metabolic syndrome. When Vijay-Kumar transplanted the gut menagerie from the mutant mice to normal ones, whose own bacteria had been massacred with antibiotics, the recipients also developed signs of metabolic syndrome. It was clear evidence that the bacteria were causing the symptoms and not the other way round.

Vijay-Kumar thinks that without the influence of TLR5, the mice don’t know what to make of their unusual gut residents. They react by releasing chemicals that trigger a mild but persistent inflammation. These same signals encourage the mice to eat more, and they make local cells resistant to the effects of insulin. Other aspects of the metabolic syndrome soon follow. The details still need to be confirmed but for now, studies like this show us how foolish it is to regard obesity as a simple matter of failing willpower. It might all come down to overeating and inactivity, but there are many subtle reasons why an individual might eat too much. The microscopic community within our guts are one of them.

For humans, beards are for catching food, looking like a druid, and getting tenure. But other animals have beards with far more practical purposes – mussels literally have beards of iron that they use as anchors. The beard, or byssus, is a collection of 50-100 sticky threads. Each is no thicker than a human hair but they’re so good at fastening the mussels to wave-swept rocks that scientists are using them as the inspiration for glue. So they should. The byssus is a marvel of bioengineering – hard enough to hold the mussel in place, but also stretchy enough so that they can extend without breaking.

The mussel secretes each thread with its foot, first laying down a protein-based core and then covering it in a thick protective layer that’s much harder. When Matthew Harrington looked at the strands under a microscope, he saw that the outer layer is a composite structure of tiny granules amid a looser matrix. The granules consist of iron and a protein called mfp-1, heavily linked to one other – this makes the byssus hard. The matrix is a looser collection of the same material, where mfp-is 1 heavily coiled but easy to straighten – this lets the byssus stretch. The granules have a bit of give to them but at higher strains, they hold firm while the matrix continues extending. If cracks start to form, the granules stop them from spreading.

It’s unclear how the mussel creates such a complicated pattern, but Harrington suggests that it could be deceptively simple – changing a single amino acid in the mfp-1 protein allows it to cross-link more heavily with iron. That’s the difference between the tighter granular bundles, and the looser ones they sit among.

Sixty-five million years ago, the vast majority of dinosaurs were wiped out. Now, a new paper reveals the true cause of their demise – legions of zombies armed with chaingu… wait… oh. Right. An asteroid. You knew that.